German fiction -- Translations into English; Palestine -- History -- Fiction
When the Hebrews beheld with their own eyes the miracle that the
Most High was working for His chosen people, even the discouraged and
despairing became believing and hopeful.
Not only the Ephraimites, but the other tribes, the foreigners, and
lepers felt the influence of the newly-awakened joyous confidence, which
urged each individual to put forth all his powers to prepare for the
journey and, for the first time, the multitude gathered and formed into
ranks without strife, bickering, deeds of violence, curses, and tears.
After sunset Moses, holding his staff uplifted, and Aaron, singing and
praying, entered at the head of the procession the end of the bay.
The storm, which continued to rage with the same violence, had swept the
water out of it and blew the flame and smoke of the torches carried by
the tribes toward the south-west.
The chief leaders, on whom all eyes rested with trusting eagerness, were
followed by old Nun and the Ephraimites. The bottom of the sea on which
they trod was firm, moist sand, on which even the herds could walk as if
it were a smooth road, sloping gently toward the sea.
Ephraim, in whom the elders now saw the future chief, had been
entrusted, at his grandfather’s suggestion, with the duty of seeing
that the procession did not stop and, for this purpose, had been given
a leader’s staff; for the fishermen whose huts stood at the foot of
Baal-zephon, like the Phoenicians, believed that when the moon reached
her zenith the sea would return to its old bed, and therefore all delay
was to be avoided.
The youth enjoyed the storm, and when his locks fluttered and he battled
victoriously against the gale in rushing hither and thither, as his
office required, it seemed to him a foretaste of the venture he had in
view.
So the procession moved on through the darkness which had speedily
followed the dusk of evening. The acrid odor of the sea-weed and fishes
which had been left stranded pleased the boy,--who felt that he had
matured into manhood,--better than the sweet fragrance of spikenard in
Kasana’s tent. Once the memory of it flashed through his brain, but with
that exception there was not a moment during these hours which gave him
time to think of her.
He had his hands full of work; sometimes a heap of sea-weed flung on the
path by a wave must be removed; sometimes a ram, the leader of a flock,
refused to step on the wet sand and must be dragged forward by the
horns, or cattle and beasts of burden must be driven through a pool of
water from which they shrank.
Often, too, he was obliged to brace his shoulder against a heavily-laden
cart, whose wheels had sunk too deeply into the soft sand; and when,
even during this strange, momentous march, two bands of shepherds began
to dispute about precedence close to the Egyptian shore, he quickly
settled the dispute by making them draw lots to decide which party
should go first.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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